Will It Be Okay?
by DivergeIntoMadness46
Summary: Beatrice/Tris Prior Is alone. No parents. No brother. The only thing to drain the pain of her aching heart, is another pain to take it's place. She gets depressed, but it's not what people think. Can a certain blue eyed boy relate, and help her survive high school? Or will his efforts only make things worse?
1. Prologue

_FLASHBACK_

_ So it's the first day of third grade, the first day in my new school, with new people, and a new... living space. I would be fine with my foster parents, if they let me keep my last name, and not have me pretend to be part of their family. Not that I would want to anyways. I start doodling in my notebook when the teacher addresses me._

_ "Beatrice, would you please introduce yourself to the class?" Mrs. Ryes asks me, but I know its not really a question._

_ I look up. What can I say? What_ will I say?_ What will happen if she asks me to talk about mommy? Or daddy? I don't want to lie about belonging to a family. As I mull over my thoughts, I realize they are waiting for me to say something._

_ "Um..." way to start off, right? "My name is Beatrice Pri-" I choke up, almost saying my real name. The one that's _not _what my foster parents told me to say. The one that's _their_ last name._ Not _mine._

_ I clear my throat, stand up straight, and force the biggest smile I can, "Beatrice Smith." I wince at the last word. It just doesn't sound right. It sounded like I was talking about someone else, it sounded foreign. I've never actually said that till now, unlike Caleb, my older brother, who practiced it all night. I hope no one else caught on to that, but of course, I was wrong._

_Some kid in the back; his name tag says his name is Eric, thinks it's funny to joke on the new kid I guess, "You sure?" _

_ Everyone bursts out laughing, and my smile turns into a frown. I feel my eyes start to water up, "No," I mumble as I sit down._

_"Settle down! Do you have anything else you want to share with the class, Beatrice?" Mrs. Ryes questions me. _

_ Yes. How about I want my real parents to still be here? And what about I was forced to come here, kicking and screaming? And a wonderful example would be that I-_

_ "No," I say shyly, still looking at my desk._

_ "Alright, thank you Miss Smith... where did you move from again?" First there is silence, then I look up and all eyes are on me._

_ I furrow my brow in confusion. "What?" _

_ Again, the dumb class clown has to say something, "SHE DOESNT EVEN KNOW HER NAME!" This causes a riot of laughter, a stern look to Eric and me, and a series of shushing. _

_ Just now realizing what I've put myself into, my cheeks get really hot, and I start to stutter out an apology when the teacher interrupts me._

_ "Out in the hall, both of you!" _

_ "But I-I-"_

_ "Do you want_ _me to call your parents? I don't think they'd be very happy with their daughter being-"_

_ I snap. That's it..._

_ "THEY ARE NOT MY PARENTS!" Tears are filling my eyes and pouring over._

_ "I DONT HAVE TO LISTEN TO YOU, OR THEM BECAUSE I DONT LISTEN TO LIARS! I'd rather be dead, in the ground with my parents, than to be here and being told who to be, and how to be it." I regain my composure saying that last part and talk just below my normal volume, but saying it with as much hate as I can. I look up and find a gaping teacher and stunned students. Before anyone can say anything else, I stand up straight and continue._

_"I'm an orphan. My brother and I are. Our parents are dead. My last name is _not _and never will be Smith. I am Beatrice _Prior_, my _real_ mom and dad are Natalie and Andrew Prior. I am not a Smith. I. Am. A. PRIOR!"_

_ I take in a deep breath, and walk out of the classroom. Leaving behind stunned students, and a bewildered teacher, who doesn't know what to do, but to stand there. I smirk at the thought, and keep walking._

_END OF FLASHBACK_

I sit in one of the many beds in this room in the orphanage. After my rant at the school that first day, my foster parents brought me to their house, and I got so worked up I started going on a rampage around the house. And by that I mean, crying that might as well have been screaming, throwing everything I could get my hands on at the walls. The more they yelled at me, the more they fed the flame in me. When my parents were alive, about a little over a year before that, I was always happy. We never got into fights, unless it was over a board game. But those always ended with someone getting thrown over my dad's shoulder, and getting spun around.

A day or two after my little _'tantrum'; _as they said to the orphanage, they brought us back. Caleb actually seemed indifferent about the whole thing, surprisingly, but I think that had to do with the fact that the couple was meaner and a lot more strict than needed. Usually he scolds me when I misbehave, and I'm actually glad for it because it reminds my of our parents. If he was anyone else... well you know what happened the last time.

We went to a couple more homes, each time resulting us coming back, well I was always the one they wanted to return, but Caleb insisted on staying with me. Sometimes I thought Caleb was second guessing on whether to leave with me or not, but in the end we always got returned together. Even now with me being eleven and Caleb having turned twelve not too long ago, we're still together.

Right now, everyone is supposed to be sleeping, but I can't. I haven't been able to sleep very well since the accident, not that it was an accident anyways. I stare up at the lines in the ceiling above me. Thinking about what the future holds for my brother and me. Before I know it, I'm in a dreamless sleep.

When I wake up, light is shining throughout the small, crowded room. But that smell, it's _awful! _And the light, it doesn't look quite right. I sit up and rub my eyes. I look around the room, and I'm the only one that seems to be awake. Then I realize that smell from whenever I would try to cook something for my parents before they got home. _It's smoke!_ I get up so fast I get tangles in my sheets and almost fall flat on my face. I rush to the door and touch the knob with the back of my hand like we learned to do incase of a fire. And if I wasn't sure before, I am now. It's hot which means there is a fire.

"EVERYONE! GET UP! GET UP! THERE'S A FIRE! GET UP!" I scream at the top of my lungs, frantic. I don't know what to do. What should I do? what _can_ I do? The smoke starts coming under the door, and now almost everyone is awake, crying, or comforting others. I just stand there breathing heavily, partly because the increasing amount of smoke, the other 'cause i don't know what to do. _CALEB! _He'll know what to do, he always does.

I start running around the room, desperately trying to find my brother. I find him comforting a little girl having a panic attack because this is how her aunt died, choking on thick smoke.

"Caleb!"

"Beatrice! What's happening?"

I shake my head, "I don't know, what should we do?"

He looks around the room and fixes his eyes on the window.

"I need to go make sure that window opens, I'll be right back," he goes over to the window.

The girl he was just with, sitting on the bed, chokes out a sob. I sit next to her and wrap her in an embrace. I just hold her, telling her it's going to be okay. But if I'm being real with myself, I don't even know if it will be okay.

I look to Caleb who's with a few other older boys trying to pry the window open. I get up to go help when it opens. I let out a sigh of relief, and rush to get everyone out of the first floor. When I get out, Caleb is still in helping the last person out. Just as he is about to climb out, the door to the room bursts open. He looks back just as a greenish gas fills the room. I frantically look for my brother in the green fog, but I can't spot him anywhere. I start calling his name several times, but there is no answer.

I gain my courage and go the window. The gas smells horrible, so I breath through my mouth. I start hearing shouts and heavy footsteps coming through the hall towards the room. I cant find Caleb, and the voices are harsh. My knees start to wobble, and before I can get inside the room, I take off running. I run as far from the orphanage as I can, not looking back once, because if I do, I'll just turn around.

I get about a mile away when I can't breath anymore. It feels like my lungs are on fire. My head feels like someone hit me with a rock several times. And the ache in my heart is too great to compare. How could I leave him? He never left me, even when he had the chance! Then I left the other orphans all alone. I put my hands to cover my eyes from the mess I'm in. I cry uncontrollably in the woods I stopped collapsed in. How can this ever be okay?

And with that thought, I'm surrounded by darkness.


	2. Chapter 1

_"They don't love you."_

_"They were probably glad to get away from you."_

_"I bet they _killed_ themselves to get away."_

_"You did this to them."_

_"YOU KILLED YOUR PARENTS!"_

"NO!" I jolt awake, only to find myself covered in cold sweat, shivering, and breathing like I just ran a marathon.

I tell myself over and over that it was just a dream. But it wasn't seven years ago, when the second family took my brother and me in. They were probably in their early thirties, and had a son that was about my age whose name was Peter. There was something that seemed off about him when I first met him. Maybe it was the sly grin he always wore. Or perhaps it was the way he looked at me, that always seemed to say, "This will be fun."

I didn't know what it was exactly, till the taunting started. He would say stuff that was mean, stuff that was wrong with me. That I'm too short and too dull. But that's not my fault! I was raised to be selfless and not care what people thought of me, but that has been getting really hard. In fact... those were his words exactly. I tried to ignore him at first, but that only seemed to upset him. So the words got harsher, and he would purposefully knock me down if we passed each other. One time, he stopped right in front of me. He told me that I was just a complete waste of time, and that he understands why my parents loved Caleb more, and he just went on. And I let him.

I didn't cry. I just hit him in the head with a lamp a couple of times. When the foster parents came back from the ER with Peter and his ice pack, they took Caleb and I back to the orphanage. My brother asked if I feel bad now. I smirked and said, "Can't if I have no regrets."

* * *

><p>Two years later, after the fake fire at the orphanage, the loss of my brother, and leaving everyone behind to escape, I ended up in some woods a mile or two away, maybe farther; I had no idea. I woke up in an unfamiliar place. At first I started freaking out because I thought the green smoke people had gotten me, but I was greeted by a friendly face. She was my age and said her name was Christina. She told me that her dad found me in the woods while he was hunting, and brought me to the nearest hospital. All they said was that I was traumatized; which I think I was just overfilled with grief, and said I had no family, and that my orphanage was burned down.<p>

Since I had nowhere to go, he brought me to their house a few hours away in Chicago, and when I woke up, asked if I wanted to live with them. At first, I turned them down, not wanting to cause them any trouble, but Christina changed my mind. They were all nice enough, so I thought I would be happy. That was until my emotions all came crashing down on me at once; grief, sadness, heartache. I wouldn't say I was depressed, but it was the truth.

Heartache for leaving and losing my brother was the most painful thing I have ever experienced, especially since he was the only family I had left. It was all too much, and it was only worse when I had no tears for it. It only seemed reasonable to replace the pain with another.

Physical.

I tried to keep my problems from my new family; yes, I consider these people family, so when I was alone in my room, I'd go to the back wall in my closet, and punch it as hard as I could. Over and over till my knuckles bled.

I know it wasn't the most rational thing to do, but it helped. One time I was just feeling mad. Every school I've ever been to, I was never good enough. Insults came at me like bullets to the heart. It was I was either too skinny or too fat, too quiet or too much, too short and just too small.

I just couldn't seem to fit in, no matter how hard I tried, so I just stopped trying. But the insults I got from people never stopped. So all this emotion, the rage I felt, I wasn't being careful, and slammed my fist against the wall so hard, I made a hole, and sprained my wrist. Christina found me and called for her parents who bandaged me up.

They asked me what I was thinking, and I lied and said it was an accident. They probably didn't believed me, but didn't push. But Christina did, she made me tell her the truth, and I did, well... half of it. She told me to promise her that it wouldn't happen again. I did.

I promised myself that I'd have to be more careful next time.

I have scars on my knuckles from punching everything from the tiles in the bathroom, to side of a brick building. The scars that I hide are a constant reminder of the lie I feed to my best friend. My sister.

Right now, I'm lying on my floor, since my bed is still soaked from sweat. It's Saturday and my Sophomore year at Faction High starts Monday. I turned sixteen last month, but that doesn't change the fact that I have the girlish figure of a pre-teen. Not to mention I am probably going to be the shortest person in High School! I just can't wait for the insults and insecurities to come back... Joy.

Chris tells me it'll be fine, but I'm not sure I want to find out. She says there a few mean people, but the rest are really nice. While she has been going to actual school, her parents have been letting me take classes with an online tutor, since I don't have the best reputation with people, and I wanted to _not_ get kicked out of anything else.

One of the things that I love about her parents, is that they don't make me call them mom or dad, and they kept my last name for me, which they don't know how much that means to me. I just call them by their first names, but I love them to death! Not as much as my parents, but close.

I get up because there is no way I will be able to fall back asleep, gather clean comfy clothes, and go to the bathroom that is connected to Chris' and my bedroom to take a shower. I stare at one spot on the floor that has a dent in it. I smirk at the memory of when I thought my entire hand was broken after.

I haven't hurt myself like that for a while since there's been no one to provoke it really, except Christina sometimes. I just get in the warm shower, and make myself feel clean since I feel just too... gross. Once I'm done, I get out and put my hair into this messy bun like thing on top of my head, then get dried and dressed.

I clean up all of my clothes and put them into the hamper under our clean towel shelf. After I'm done, I turn out the light and walk into Chris' room. She lies there, sprawled out on the entire bed. I laugh to myself, walk over to her, and flip her over to make room, not that I need a lot of room. I make myself comfy in her warm, white comforter.

I start to doze off when a thought brings me back to reality.

Christina is taking me shopping all day tomorrow. I groan at the thought of trying on an entire store, MALL even! And suddenly, I can't sleep again.

**A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed! I redid this chapter, so I hope you liked it! Shout out to silverpupp and BabyCrocodile**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey, guys! Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving, and a safe Black Friday if you went; like me. I had to wake up at 3am to go to a sale that took like 10 minutes to get in, get stuff, get out. Then I had to wait till 7am for another sale, so I couldn't go back to sleep yet. Then my Carmel Mocha I got to keep me awake, didn't let me sleep when I got home around 8am-ish. Sooo... that's one reason I couldn't update, and the lack of reviews. Hope you like this one!**

"Ohhhh Trissy Poo! Wake uh-up...WAKE YOUR LAZY BUTT UP! It's time to _shooooop!" _This is probably the nicest awakening I've ever had by Christina... ever. I grin and slightly open one eye to look at her. She's dressed in black skinny jeans, a red tank top, black leather jacket, red stud earrings, and red flats. Her dark hair is pulled up in a loose, wavy bun with bits of hair falling to frame her face. Her makeup is simple, black eyeliner and mascara to line her dark brown eyes, and a lightly applied black eye shadow for a smoky eye effect.

She looks like she belongs in a fashion magazine in my opinion. But then again, she looks like that without makeup, and in her pajamas. I groan and dig my face back into the pillow, realizing it's only seven, and we leave at nine. If this still doesn't make sense, it means she's gonna go all out _trying _to make me pretty, which will take about two or three hours, like usual.

"Oh come on Tris!" She whines. I just grunt in response. I hate when she does this. I always try to tell her she can't make me pretty, but she disagrees and insists I cooperate.

"Okay, fine," she lets out a defeated sigh.

"I'll let you pick out your outfit, but you have to let me do your hair and makeup." I look up and smirk.

"Yeah?"

"But... it has to be from my closet," and with that, she walks away, without letting me have a chance to respond. She doesn't have anything that I could wear to make her regret her decision... well played, Chris, well played.

I get up, stretch out my back and pop my knuckles, then make my way towards her closet.

When I was officially adopted into this family, I had no clothes at first. So Chris lent me some of hers. Only being eleven, and she was the most fashionable girl I've ever met. So when she let me choose an outfit from her ginormous closet, I was overwhelmed. But I chose the simplest outfit she had, despite her protests.

I gasp when I see that Christina, being the fashionista she is, has a plain grey sundress in the mass of colors.

I go over to it and just observe.

"I knew you'd like it," Chris says behind me.

I continue to observe the dress. The fitted top part, to the flowy skirt.

"Which.." she starts grabbing the dress off the hook.

"Is why I got it for you." I turn around she has a satisfied smile on her face, holding the dress out to me.

I grab it and give her a grateful smile.

"Thank you Chris," I pull her into a hug.

_ "Don't wrinkle the dress!"_ She squeals. I laugh and pull away only to find her with a mischievous grin.

"Time to get ready. Go get in the shower and make sure your hair is tangle free if you don't want it to be yanked out."

I slide past her, turn around and giver her a cocked hip and solute, then obey her orders.

* * *

><p>Once I'm out of the shower, into the dress, and done with hair and makeup, I'm finally allowed to look in the mirror.<p>

I gasp, mouth open, observing myself in the full length mirror.

I can't believe that this is my reflection. The dress hugs in all the right places, and comes to a little lower than mid-thigh. My mid-back length, blonde hair, falls in loose curls with the front pieces pulled away from my face and pinned in the back. Chris pulled shorter pieces to the front to frame my face, which looks really good!

Next, I observe my makeup. I asked her to keep it pretty simple and she agreed after useless protests on her part. She lined my grey eyes with black eyeliner and black mascara to make them look striking, and not dull. For eye shadow, she put a really light tan-ish color on my lid, then in the crease she blended the tan with a grey color to go with my dress. Then she just covered up some blemishes on my face with foundation, but _only _enough to cover up, and not like those cake-faced girls these days.

I think I look good for once... well I always say that when she dresses me up, which is only once in a while.

"Okay... now for shoes!" I look at her like she just killed someone. I will _not, _in _no way, _wear heels.

"Oh, come on! They'll make your calves look great!" She says reading my mind. I roll my eyes and put my hands on my hips, not budging.

"Fine... wedges." I start to protest, but she cuts me off.

"I didn't go all out with the makeup, so you wear the wedges, or go barefoot," I give her a sly grin. She knows that I will go barefoot. I've done it before.

"Never mind. Please wear them... pleeeaaassseee!" She begs.

"Ugh! Fine! But, we will stay away from left side of the mall." She pouts, thinks about it, then sighs in defeat.

The left side is were all the bras and underwear are. She always drags me there, despite my protests.

I skip over to her closet and pull out a pair of dark grey wedges that aren't too tall. I pull them on, and drag Chris out of the house, and towards my 2015 black Mustang that I got for my birthday. She has a 2015 Shelby Mustang. We can both agree that mustangs are the _best!_ Let's just say Chris' parents are kinda rich and spoil us.

* * *

><p>Once we're inside the gigantic mall, and after singing to various songs on the whole way here, we head to the right side of the mall. The very first store we see that isn't Gap or something like that, is Charlotte Russe.<p>

Christina grabs my arm and yanks me into the store. I don't protest because I actually like this store, but Chris doesn't need to know that. I tell her I don't have a favorite store, but if I told her that this was it, she'd freak and ask her parents to buy it or something like that.

I smirk to myself at the image of Chris walking up to the manager and demanding she run this place or get huge discounts on everything.

Just as I'm thinking this, she actually walks up to a person that works there. I expect her to ask to see the manager, but instead she asks where the cutest clothes are that would fit me.

I zone out but see pointing and lots of talking. I just follow them around. I think Christina is being a little too judgmental about what the lady says would look good on me.

"That would make it look like she has no... ANYTHING!

She'd drown in that shirt!

Where's the rest of those shorts?!

Why is everything in here so freaking short?

Tris, what do you think of this? Nope, never mind, I hate it."

And the list of things she says goes on and on, some things I will not repeat... sometimes she has absolutely no filter. Finally, we just get kicked out of the store, but unlike in the past, it was Christina's fault.

I thanked them on the way out, and they told me to come again, but gave Chris a sour look.

"Well that went well," Chris says as we start walking.

"Haha, yeah, but it's too bad they didn't really have anything for me," I tell her.

"Hey, don't worry. I just said I didn't like most of their stuff because the lady was just being rude. We should go back at the end of the day when she's gone." I laugh at her genius idea.

We go into a few more stores, and it's about ten thirty in the morning.

"Hey, Chris. You keep looking and I'll go get us something to eat?"

"Sounds good. OOO! Look at this- _darn it_! I don't even have that much money!"

I giggle then go to the food court on the bottom level, right below us. Everything is just too fancy, and weird sounding , so I go over to the pretzel cart.

There aren't that many people in line, so I'm a little glad and a little disappointed, since I'll have to get back to shopping with Chris sooner, being thrown into one changing room after another.

When it's my turn I order two pretzels, one with salt for Chris and the other with cinnamon sugar for me. At the last minute, I decide to order an extra large lemonade, for Chris and me to share, and so I can pass off some time before going back.

I sit at a small table for two next to the pretzel stand, and set down the drink, but keep the pretzels in hand.

Right next to the little cart is a mini playground, with a couple little kids playing on it. I start watching them play with a wide gin on my face when one little kid catches my attention. He has dark hair, green eyes that sparkle, and dimples that show when he laughs.

He looks just like Caleb.

I feel my throat close up, and tears start to cloud my vision, but I don't let them pour over. How could he look almost _exactly_ like him? It's just not fair. Whenever the memory of losing him fades, something always brings it back. The pain, anger, and heartache. It floods all of my good judgment, and tries to overpower it.

I start clenching my fists and look at the nearest brick wall.

"Hey." A deep voice brings me back.

I look up to be met with dark, stormy blue eyes.

"You okay? You just killed your pretzels," he says. I look down to discover that my pretzels, in fact, are dead; parts on the ground, and my scarred knuckles are white.

"OH! I'm sorry. I'm fine," I sniff which made it sound totally convincing... I start wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, then put the pretzel parts on a napkin. When I start to get the pieces off the ground, he's still standing there.

"Either you can help, or you can leave," I tell him, sitting on my knees and looking up at his tall, and _very _muscular self.

He chuckles a deep, rumbling sound, and walks away.

"Jerk," I mutter and go back to picking the pieces off the ground, and putting them on the table.

The guy comes back with a plastic bag with the pretzel logo on it, and starts putting the pieces into the bag.

I don't say anything to him, and he doesn't say anything to me in the short process. When we're done, he ties the bag and puts it in the garbage.

"Thanks," I say quietly to the stranger.

He waves it off like it was no big deal, when to me, it was.

"No problem."

No one's ever really been nice to me, especially someone I don't even know.

"Soo, about your little pretzel murder..." He prompts.

"Oh, that? I was.. umm.. studying the effects of squishing cooked dough. Yeah, I was seeing if it'd squish or break. I guess it broke!" I say really fast, hoping he'd believe the terrible lie. But by the way he crosses his arms, cocks his eyebrow, and looks down on me, I can tell he doesn't.

"Really?" He asks in a disbelieving tone.

"Yup. I gotta go, umm, thanks for the help!" I grab my lemonade and speed walk in any direction away from him.

Once I'm far enough away, I slow back down and take a deep breath. There aren't any running stores over here since they're remodeling this side, so I find a wall and lean against it, sliding to the ground.

I bring my knees to my chest and rest my head on them. That little boy on the playground fills my head, sounds creepy, I know, but now I can't stop thinking about Caleb. The last time I saw him, he was a twelve year old genius. I wonder what would happen if he was still here. He'd probably be in those smart classes, and wear nerdy glasses. He'd probably get excepted into an elite college after he'd graduate.

My hands turn into fists and I start bouncing them on the ground.

But I ruined his chances at that life.

I left him to save myself.

I left everyone else to save themselves.

Caleb would've helped them.

But he couldn't because I didn't save him.

HE'S MOST LIKELY DEAD AND ITS ALL MY FAULT!

I SHOULD BE THE DEAD ONE! NOT HIM!

I scream from rage and realize my hands are sore from beating them on the ground, but I still feel the pain for my brother. I slam my hands against the wall, opening up healed cuts.

People are running towards me. I don't want them to see who I am, so I put my head between my knees and continue to scream and sob, I'm shaking now.

I hear voices, but none of them register, all I hear is my own voice, reminding me that it's all my fault.

My muffled sobs are now replaced by unintelligible muttering.

Soon, I'm lifted off the ground effortlessly, being carried bridal style. I am honestly grateful, even though I have no clue who it is. I don't look up to find out, I just focus on keeping my face hidden.

"OMIGOD! TRIS!" I know it's Christina, but I don't acknowledge her, but hope she has the brain to just follow us, especially since I _don't _know who's carrying me. I think she got the hint since I don't hear anything else from her.

I hear doors open and car sounds, so I think we're in the parking lot.

I know I look like a mess, and that Chris will kill me for it later, but I'm just glad to be away from everyone that was crowding around me like I'm a wild animal.

I'm set down on the ground, and when I look up, I'm surprised to find the pretzel stranger. Before, I didn't really have a chance to register how _handsome _he is. And it takes all my mental strength to refrain from asking if he works out. He looks young, like twenty-ish, but his muscles are toned... he's tan and has dark brown hair. Then his eyes...

"Hi again, I guess you weren't okay," his tone is light, but his eyes are hard and concerned.

"I guess not," I look down at my hands to avoid his eyes. But just looking at my hands hurt. They're all sorts of purple and green, and dried blood on my knuckles.

I didn't even realize Christina wasn't here till she runs out with like, ten bags and a bag of ice and my lemonade. If she was anyone else, I would expect her to be worried and frantic, but she looks about ready to kill.

"What happened?" She asked like a mother who's scolding her children, then hands me the ice which I put around my hands.

"Nothing, it was an accident. I'm fine, really," I try to sound convincing, but the guy just scoffs. I give him a death glare, which he returns by keeping my gaze. I don't look away, and neither does he.

"AHEM!" I look to Chris who has her hands on her hips, looking at me expectantly.

I can't believe she doesn't know that I wont tell her in front of some guy. I look her in the eye, then look at the guy till she gets it... which she doesn't.

"Oh, this is Four. Don't ask. He goes to our school... Junior." I mentally face-palm. That was interesting, but not my intention with the looking back and forth. Wait... He's only a junior? Hmm... interesting.

"Oh.. cool. Hi, I- as you probably figured out- am Tris," I extend my hand out and he shakes it firmly, but gently.

"Four." He has a way with introductions.

"So," he continues, "I think I want to know what happened back there too."

Why does everyone have to know what's wrong with me?

I only have one way to get out of this...

_ "JEEZ! I'M ON MY PERIOD!"_ I mentally slap myself for that lame excuse, but I hope he buys it, and that Chris catches on. I make sure my voice is like Lisa's off of White Chicks when she goes on that mental break down. Before watching their reaction I go on a fake rant to make it more believable.

_ "I mean, come on! When you see a girl screaming at absolutely nothing, there is a battle on the inside._

_ I crushed my pretzel_ because_ I feel so bloated and fat, and then a hot guy like-"_ WOW I almost ended that with 'you', but I recover quickly.

_ "Like Liam Hemsworth, makes me feel like I'll never find love!"_ I cover my face and pretend to cry, exaggerating a little bit, hoping he'll go away.

"Umm.. I'm sorry, I'm just- I'm just gonna go. Bye-" I make a loud, inhuman noise to make him leave faster. I guessed it worked, 'cause when I look up, I see his retreating figure walking at a fast pace.

I burst out laughing when he's far enough away, and imagine his face... _priceless!_ I laugh even harder, and have to clutch my stomach.

I look at Christina who's trying to give me a scowl, but failing miserably. I make myself laugh harder, while making the weirdest faces, trying to make her join me. Soon, we're both laughing to death in the parking lot, more from some of the sounds we each make than anything, and ignoring the stares we get from people, and parents that rush their kids past us. I'll bet it looks like we're on drugs or something.

* * *

><p>On the way back home, Chris told me to spill, and I told her mostly everything, except the part about me blaming myself for everything. Last time I told her it was my fault, she went totally out of her way to tell me it wasn't. I appreciated it, and told her that I believe her, but it didn't really change what I believed.<p>

We're a good twenty minutes away from the house when she puts us on a new topic.

"So... Four seemed to take an interest in you." I glance at her and she wiggles her eyebrows at me. I scoff and shake my head.

"Please. And what kinda name is 'Four' anyway?"

"No one knows. But everyone _likey likey,_" then she makes a purring sound. I laugh at her and she joins.

"If everyone 'likey likey' then he wouldn't 'likey likey' me."

"Hey, I never said he likey likied you. I said he seemed _interested, _because _him and I are an item!"_

I look to see if she's serious, and she bursts out laughing. I look back to the road, turn into our neighborhood, and nervously laugh, not knowing what she means.

She stops and looks at me all serious, "I was kidding." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"OMG! You likey likey him, don't you?!"

Ugh, I do not! I just think he's... interesting is all. And nosey.

"Pah-leez, no way. I would say that I _could_ be _interested." _She glares at me and I pull into the driveway.

"Fine, but I will find you a boyfriend this year! YOU SHALL HAVE THE EXPERIENCE!" She shouts to the sky. I just shake my head and try to grab all the bags out of the trunk, but she takes the ones I can't carry, then some more from my hands.

When we get inside, we're the only ones home, which means Chris' parents are at work still.

"Oh, while you were crushing our pretzels, I found the most amazingly-cute clothes for you! I know your sizes in everything, so I just bought them!"

She puts more than half of the bags in my room, then walks off to hers' with the rest of them. I groan, but on the inside I'm thankful to have such a good sister like Christina.

"I'M COMING BACK IN TEN MINUTES TO SEE HOW EVERYTHING LOOKS!" She shouts from her room. It's nothing from the normal, whenever she buys me clothes, she always has to see how they look on me.

At least I'll be set for tomorrow... Tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm sorry this took long to be updated, but I hope that I fed the beast. I had a couple projects due the last few weeks, so that's why I couldn't update, and I was only able to do a little at a time. Now I'm on break, so hopefully I can get a few chapters in. Review please, it would make my day! **

BEEP! BEEP! BEEEEEEEEE-

Mindlessly, my hand smacks the snooze button on my alarm clock.

I make loud groan like sounds in protest about getting up at this un-godly hour. When I took classes online, I never had to wake up early, and I don't understand how Chris can always look perfect and not zombie like when she gets home.

I drowsily look to the nightstand beside my bed, and check the time on my phone.

_OMIGAWSH... _It's 6am. How in the world am I expected to get up...? even the sun isn't up yet!

I groan so loudly into my pillow that Chris walks into my room and turns the light on. My eyes fly open, and I look at her like she just cut my arm off and fed it to some wolves.

_"GOOD MOOOORNING!"_ She exclaims with a not so elegant wave of her arms.

"It's _morning? _It looks like the middle of the night," I mutter.

"Stop being so melodramatic and get up, in the shower, and put on the clothes I bought you. Don't bother with your hair, I'll do it."

And with that, she walks out.

_"Ughhh!" _I literally roll out of bed, and walk to my closet to look for the clothes I'll wear. I find a really cute, thin red V-neck hoodie, black skinny jeans, and red and black Jordans.

Once I gather the outfit, I take it to the bathroom and put the clothes in a corner where they wont get wet, and start my shower.

I take about five minutes in the shower, not knowing how long I have, get dressed, get out to brush my hair and teeth, then walk into Chris' room for and hair and makeup.

After she blow dried my hair, she brushed all the tangles out to straighten it. My hair is pretty much all one length and parted to the side, so it looks good when she straightens it, it just takes forever. To finish it off, I put a thin black headband to keep my hair out of my face.

For makeup, I told her that I wanted to look like myself, and to make it easy enough, since she can't make me up everyday, so it's just black eyeliner and mascara, with a bit of foundation to even everything out.

I look in the mirror and am pleased.

"Thanks Chris," I turn around and flash her a sincere smile.

"Welcome. Here," she holds out some red lip gloss. I frown at her.

"Don't worry. If you only put a little on the bottom, and rub your lips together, it wont look so bright."

I sigh, but reluctantly take it from her and turn back to the mirror. I do just as she said, and admit that it looked good. Makes up for the minimal makeup on my eyes, so at least there'll be something that'll make me stand out a little.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," I say with an exasperated sigh.

* * *

><p>We drive separately since Chris is going to see the cheer coach about tryouts after school, then going to the football field to practice with a few of her friends. She wanted me to come along, but I don't know the fist thing about cheerleading! And I really don't feel like being seen as the outsider <em>all day.<em>

I'm in awe when I follow Chris into the school parking lot.

The place is _huge! _There are three buildings total, all of them making it look like a half circle. The biggest one in the middle is the main office, and the science department place thingy; Chris says everyone calls them Erudite. The one that is to the right is PE/fitness; Dauntless, and public speaking/law ED; Candor. And to the left of the main building is, as Christina says- the 'hippies' who learn about family care and citizenship; Amity, and lastly, the selfless community volunteers; Abnegation.

She says that we had to get there early so I could take a test to see what classes I'll be placed into, which everyone else took in the eighth grade to get ready for High school. I'm leaning towards Dauntless since I was raised close to the Abnegation way, and my brother was_ just_ like Erudite, so I want to be different. Well, and the reason that my only friend in this place is also Dauntless..

We get out and Chris leads me down a path through the short trimmed grass to the main office. Before we enter the large wooden doors, I expect... well, the opposite than what I see when we do get in.

It looks like a normal High school. Lockers lining the walls, and students carrying books, wearing glasses, and wearing blue. Chris and I look like neon lights in the midst of darkness in all this blue. I wonder what it's about.

Chris must see my curious glances because she whispers in my ear when we're in line to get our schedules, "Erudite-Blue... It's their thing."

I just nod my head slowly.

When we get to the front of the line Chris gets right down to business, cutting her sentences short and to the point, "I'm picking up my schedule; Christina Williams. One test for Beatrice Prior. She's new." I smirk at her annoyed tone and finger rapping on the counter. If she's annoyed now, I'm not sure I want to see how her mood will be throughout the day.

The lady looks unaffected by Christina's rudeness, and prints out two sheets of paper. She hands them both to Chris and calls for the next people in line.

Chris leads us to a set of chairs and hands me one of the sheets of paper. I guess this is the test. All it really wants to know what I do in spare time, and what my grades were like in previous years, yada yada yada. When I'm done, Chris takes the paper up to the front desk lady, who doesn't look pleased at seeing Chris again, and prints off another sheet of paper after a five minute wait.

I take a look at my schedule that was finally handed to me, and according to Chris, mine has taken the longest to process out of all of the ones she has seen, but told me not to worry. _How can you not worry about that?! Is something wrong? Did my online grades get messed up in the system?_

I look to Chris for the answers that she can't hear, but maybe she can because she gives me a smile that says, _don't worry about it._

I have almost all my credit since I took online classes with a tutor, and am a little bit above everyone in my grade, so I only have a few mandatory classes:

**Beatrice Prior**

**Sophomore**

**DAUNTLESS**

**1st- Free**

**2nd- Language(Mrs. Sunshine)**

**_3rd- Art(Ms. Wu)_**

**LUNCH**

**4th- Science(Ms. Matthews)**

**5th- Physical Education(Coach Max)**

I compared my schedule with Chris' and we only have lunch and language together, which means I'll have to meet new people. Yay... People.

Free period I just wandered around the halls and got an Icee in the lunch room, and so far, no friends.

Language With Chris is almost over, and I'm counting down the seconds to the bell. The teacher told us to call her Mrs. Raif, and she seems cool. She's from the Amity building. Raif I guess is her first name, or the new one she picked in Amity, because her full name resembles 'Ray of Sunshine'.

Amity.

All we did was a quiz to see where we are, then we did games to learn everyone's names.

Chris told me that her friends Marlene and Zeke are in this class, but are in detention already for some reason, and that I'll probably see them tomorrow.

When the bell sounds, Chris and I say our goodbyes, then we head in opposite ways.

Great. I don't even know where this class is! And the great thing is that if it's in another building, it doesn't say it. Well if it's room-

UMPH!

I fall to the ground and so does the map I was using to try and navigate with. Great first impression, running into a wall.

I sigh and look up, only to find a very handsome... Number boy and his posse.

"I'm so sorry, I was just trying to find my next class but I thing I'm a bit lost." _Please don't laugh. Please don't make fun of me. Please don't push me down._

"Wow, Four. I'm surprised you're still allowing her to be able to beg. Or are you just messing with her?" One of his friends snickers.

"Shut up, Lauren! You know it wasn't her fault, and so does he. Come on, look at her. Do you think he's gonna wanna break a newbie on the first day back?!" Someone else counters.

I ignore them and cautiously get up, not making eye contact with anyone.

"You alright?" A deep voice asks me.

I look up and see concern lacing his expression, and looking as if he's ready to catch me if I faint. Then his eyes...

I clear my throat and look back down, "I'm fine, thanks."

"What class do you need help finding? I'm Shauna by the way," a tall girl with shoulder length brown hair and green eyes steps up.

"Art," I answer simply.

"Great! We were just on our way there, tag along. This is Lauren," She points to another girl with dark hair and three silver rings through her right eyebrow. We walk and continue introductions, and I realize that Four has left.

"And this is Uriah-"

"The amazingly handsome, geniusly hot, masculine man around! Oh, yeah, carry on!" A tall, handsome boy with bronze skin and dark eyes declares in a medieval voice. His giddiness makes me laugh.

"Yeah, sure. This is Al," she then whispers the last part in my ear so only I can hear, "He was asking who you were this morning. Seemed interested if you ask me," she wiggles her eyebrows at me.

I just nod, ignoring her.

"And the rest of the gang is in detention, and... Hey, where is Christina and her friend anyway?"

I look up at Shauna, "Christina Williams?"

"Yeah. You know her?"

"Yeah, I'm her friend," I answer cautiously.

"OH GREAT! She told us to look out for you." Just then we arrive at what I think is the art room, and I'm glad to have a break from these... no words can really describe them.

I go in and find a seat at a table in the back. After a couple minutes, I feel someone sit next to me, but refrain from looking.

"Good morning! I'm Ms. Wu, but call me Tori, I don't like feeling old. So for today, just draw whatever you want, but it has to be done at the end of the block. Ready, GO!"

There is paper stacked in the middle of the table, but I just take out my sketch book and start, leaning back in my chair and bringing my knees to my chest, and propped against the table.

I start drawing three ravens, symbolizing each lost member of my family. I don't draw a background, just the darkness I lost them in.

"You okay?" I look to the left to find Four sitting next to me.

"No." I answer him, for once, truthfully. I let a tear escape my eye.

"It's not the thing that happened at the mall again is it?" He asks skeptically.

I laugh, "You actually bought that?"

"Seemed like something I had to buy," he teases.

"Well, okay then." I get up and turn in my drawing with twenty minutes to spare.

"Wow! This is amazing..."

"Beatrice," only few people call me Tris, and I'd like to keep it that way.

"Okay, well you can leave now if you want. You wont miss anything," she smiles at me and I thank her then leave.

* * *

><p>I go to Chris' classroom and wait outside the door, listening to music till the bell rings for lunch.<p>

When we get in line, I see that it's meatloaf or baked chicken. Or, I'll pass. So I just grab an apple, which earns me a disapproving look from Christina, but I ignore it... I have for the last five years.

After I pay for my stuff, I wait for Chris because I don't know where to sit. We both head over to a table in the back corner Where Chris' rowdy friends sit.

When we get there, everyone's plates are piled high with just about everything they are serving today, and then some.

When I take my seat, everyone stops their conversation, and looks at my apple, then at me, asking silently if what I'm eating is a joke.

"What?"

"That's all you're eating?" Someone asks, I don't know who.

Christina gives me an '_mmhm, told you_' look, which I shrug off and look at my bruised apple. Suddenly, I've completely lost my appetite. After receiving a few worried glances, everyone continues their conversations, but I zone out.

The conversation is pretty much out of my field of expertise, so I pull my iPod out of my pocket and grab my headphones out of my book bag. I scroll through my never-ending list of songs, and choose Skinny Love by Birdy.

Because of my bird like appetite, people ask if I'm anorexic or something, but I'm not, and I just love the message the song gives, and don't listen to it because I need, or am seeking guidance or help; I also get asked that.

_And I told you to be patient,_

_and I told you to be fine,_

_and I told you to be balanced,_

_and I told you to be kind._

I lean my head down on the table, falling into the depth of these lyrics. I'm awoken out of my trance like state when I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I sigh but look up, only to find Al looking down at me with kind eyes.

"Yes?" I question.

"Uhh... The bell just rang. Want me to, uhh, walk you to your next class?" He asks while running a hand through his short hair nervously.

This puts an amused smile on my face, "Yeah, that'd be great! I actually don't even know where it is."

His face lights up and ask me what my next class is, while we start walking out of the lunch room, realizing there are only a few people left in here.

I have to think about his question first but finally answer him, "I think it's science."

I look over at him and he wears a mask of pure joy, like a little kid on Christmas morning, "Mine too!" He exclaims, not even trying to contain his excitement.

I laugh at his enthusiasm as he tells me that we'll be studying, making, then testing serums. I don't get why, but that sounds like the most fun thing I've ever been able to do in science, and not just because I haven't been in an actual science class in a long time.

With all these warm, funny, kind people surrounding me, for once, I think this'll work out, and I'm excited and scared at the same time..

But then there's the mysterious Number Boy.

Four.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Heyo! Hope you all had a fantastical holiday, and hope you have a great/resolved New Year! Read on my people... *if you like it.***

Ever get the feeling where you think someone is watching you? Well, I get this feeling as I start to jog around the track for last block; PE. The track is surrounding the school's football field, so it's pretty big. The first few minutes we all stretched, now we have to run five laps, then we'll do some races for fun.

Not everyone finds joy in this class, but I don't see how! I jog a lot at home because as I focus on the burning of my calves as my feet continue to pound the hard ground beneath me, I forget how seriously screwed up my life is. Sometimes I imagine that if I can run fast enough, hard enough, and make myself keep going, I could run back in time. I know that sounds totally stupid, but I think of it as, instead of running away that day, I could retrace my footsteps, but backwards; going to instead of fro.

This is another way I let loose. A more _logical _way.

I thought that science would be.. well, better than it was.

Science was actually quite... boring. Some people seemed intrigued by the idea that later in the year, we'll create something to make a fellow classmate do what our serums tell them to do.

To be totally honest, or even a little honest.. in fact, I didn't even try to hide my disagreements; this is wrong, disgusting, and just not right. Those were probably my exact words, actually. Some laughed, and told me to put a sock in it.

I was quiet for the rest of class since some looks I got could kill if they were able. I didn't want to make an even bigger fool of myself, or, you know.. get suspended or something like that.

Only Al, Four, and Uriah are in this class with me, but we have assigned partners. I'm with this very nonsocial, masculine girl named Molly. She does _not_ give off a ray of sunshine, or even smile. She is more like tornado season with a sneer; everyone runs when she's coming, and looking at her makes you want to advert your eyes, or else she'll tear you apart. I don't think she likes me very much, but lucky for me, we don't have to sit with our partners yet.

I have lapped the track like twice already, but can't seem to stop looking around and over my shoulder every few seconds.

I jump when Four suddenly turns up beside me on my right. "You okay? Looks like you're paranoid about something."

"Fine," I reply curty because I don't want him to hear how hard it is for me to breathe already, not that I mind, but my lungs seem to disagree. I'm really fast, but long distance is totally different.

He keeps stride next to me and it seems effortless for him.

Then I feel it on my left. I jerk my head that way, but don't see anything.

He scoffs, "Okay." And with that he jogs away.

Jeez, what's this guy's problem anyway? Whatever, I don't want to know.

When we all finish our laps, which took a little longer than expected because Al is incapable of running five minutes straight, we take a small water break. It's in the middle of summer, so I'm sweating through my grey sports tank top and black Nike shorts.

The coach calls for the first volunteers to race. I decide to stand off to the side to watch, water bottle in hand.

I don't know anyone of the first three racing.

Or the second.

On the third, only two people volunteer

"AL! Get your lazy butt off the ground and join this race!" I look to Al who is lying in the grass, panting like a dehydrated dog, and feel pity for him.

"I... can't... do it..." Al whimpers like a small child.

"Fine, but if you don't participate now, you'll fail this class," Coach Max threatens.

He can't do that! People don't have to participate.

It takes Al a second or two... or sixty to get to his feet, and limp over to the line.

I can't let Al be treated like this, picked on for not having enough stamina, or will to stand for long.

As the race is about to begin, my stupid self interjects, "You can make him do this race, but he looks like he'll faint if he does. But, whatever, have it on your hands if he does."

Coach Max glares at me for a few seconds, but my stare never wavers.

Finally he speaks again, "Then maybe you can take his place."

It's just one lap, not too far. Then I look to who's also competing; Four and Lauren.

I walk up to the line where Al is standing.

"Thank you," he whispers, then hurriedly limps to the side lines.

I get in my stance and focus on what's ahead of me.

"Oh, and before I forget; you can't come in last or second or else you'll fail. Thank your big mouth."

_Oh how I hate this guy._

"GO!"

I go just below full speed, saving up.

Four is first so far, and Lauren is right beside me, grunting like a wild animal. I know that she is giving her all, and that if I up my game just a little, I'll be in front of her. But like I said, I'm saving up.

We're about half way when she totally gives up, and I push a little harder. I come up right behind Four, and he looks like he running at a leisurely pace, his long legs giving him a little extra leverage.

I bet he's doing this for me, so I wont fail. I'm grateful, but I hate that he's going easy on me.

We're nearing the end when I pull up next to him.

"Wanna tie?" He asks.

"I don't want to fail."

"He didn't say had to come in _first_."

"You paid attention," I say lightly.

"I'm observant."

"Okay, lets do it."

We stay perfectly side by side all the way to the line.

"Well, you weren't last or second, so you wont fail, but you lose points for opening your mouth." With that, the dismissal bell rings.

I grab my gym bag and the rest of my stuff from the locker room, not bothering to change or shower, and head to my car.

As I'm leaving the field, I spot someone near the bleachers on the opposite side. I try to see who it is, but Al comes into view, and starts walking toward me.

I hope this doesn't take long, I really want to get home, shower, then relax.

"Hey Beatrice, I just wanted to thank you for sticking up for me. I'm just not built for running long distances," he tells me.

_Or at all, _part of me says. I mentally scold myself.

I smile, "No problem. Friends have to stick up for each other right?" Just so he gets the point that we're just friends, hastily I add, "I would have done it for any of my friends, and I know that they would have done it for me too... because we're friends."

"Oh, yeah, I know, it's just that no one else did, so I wanted you to know that I'm thankful," he sounds hurt.

I force a smile because I feel bad now, "You're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

><p>Lying in bed after the first day back to school, after five and a half years, is probably the worst thing. Everything from earlier today filling my head with questions that demand answers, that I just don't have.<p>

What should I do about Al?

Should I consider the rowdy group of Christina's friends, my friends too?

Can I consider Four a friend? I have received so many mixed signals from him already, so I'll just wait.

Can I stay at, or even fit in at this new school?

Hopefully I'll get answers tomorrow.

* * *

><p>"Mar, Zeke! What happened yesterday?" Uriah asks at lunch. In language, I didn't know who they were, and Chris wasn't there because she had a 'makeup emergency', and skipped the whole class period.<p>

"We pulled the best prank! Man, you shoulda been there, it was _awesome," _Zeke replies with a look of satisfaction.

Marlene takes a seat next to Shauna and chats with her and Chris.

"What'd you do?" Will asks. I guess he's also a part of the group, but just got back today. He seems really smart, so I don't understand how he fits in with the rest of them.

"We went into Principle Kang's office, and that little lamp on his desk, replaced the bulb with a paint grenade."

"How'd it go off?" I add to the conversation, but regret it.

Thankfully, my regret was unneeded.

"Attached the chain to the grenade pin, so when he pulled-" he makes an exploding gesture with his hands while standing up, "BOOM! Paint everywhere. Hey, who's the Stiff?"

I look around confused, but he's pointing to me.

Maybe I was wrong.

"Sorry, the What?" I ask.

"We have the grouping system, Zeke gave each one a name," Four says for the first time today.

"I still don't get it... _Stiff?" _

"You kinda look like those selfless peeps. They're uptight, don't have a funny bone, don't really talk to anyone except other _STIFFS,"_ explains Zeke as if it were obvious_. _

"Oh." I can't believe they see me like that. "The names Beatrice, to answer your question."

"Beeeeaaaatriiiice... Hmm. Nope wont do. What about Bae.. Baaaeeee.. Nope. Guys?" Asks Zeke.

"Beat?"

"She's not a vegetable!"

"Rice?"

"GUYS! SHE'S NOT FOOD!"

"What about... Tris?"

"OOH! That sounds good!"

My head snaps up, "No. It's Beatrice or Stiff or anything else, but not Tris." Chris is the only other one to call me that other than my family, and it took a while for that to happen.

"Tris, come on-"

"I SAID NO, CHRIS!" I pick up my barely touched tray, and leave.

I leave the cafeteria, and head to Science, even though class hasn't started yet, just so I don't have to go back to the table.

I hear someone behind me, "Sorry ,Chris. I don't think I can do it like I promised."

No response. I turn around, expecting to see Chris, but finding a somewhat familiar face, one I never hoped to see again.

Hair on the back of my neck stands up, and fear prickles along my spine.

"Peter?"


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey! Tell me if I should continue, give your input, tell me what you think.. Here it is...**

_"You should just leave. No one wants you here," he tells me casually, as if this is just like an every day conversation, but I guess for us, it is._

_"You mean _you_ don't want me here," I bravely retort._

_"Oh, so she speaks?" He gives a short, humorless laugh._

_I wish I could knock that smug grin right off his face. Ever since we got here he's been harassing me, and it's only been a couple days so far! How will I survive?!_

_No, How will _he _survive? _

_I try to ignore him, and walk past him to the room I'm staying in for the time being._

_It was worth a shot, but he blocks my way._

_I wish Caleb were here, but he's doing something else on the other side of the house, in the library I think._

_"Excuse me."_

_"Hmm? Nah."_

_He pushes me into a small table with a vase on it, and it shatters on the floor._

_He didn't push me that hard, and I only bumped into it, but I'm small, so the force was more that it seemed._

_Oh my goodness!_

_I stare in shock. I can't believe that just happened._

_They told me the first day that I was to be careful, especially around _that_ vase._

_And now, he's going to blame it on me._

_"OOOOOO, BEATRICE! MOOOOOM!"_

_"Beatrice?!" Someone calls from below, on the first level of the house._

_My heart pounds and my breathing quickens as I hear footsteps coming up the stairs._

_"Beatrice?"_

"BEATRICE?!"

"Wha?" I jump from my chair, coming face to face with Tori.

I look around the room, and I'm the last one here, besides Tori, who leans over the table, looking at me with a worried look on her face.

I guess I fell asleep. I rub my eyes and apologize, promising that it wont happen again.

I get up to leave, but Tori stops me.

"What's being going on with you the past week? You were fine the first couple days..."

"It's nothing, just haven't been able to get to sleep at night. Really, it's nothing," I reassure her. It's the partial truth.

Since I saw Peter the second day, I can't seem to concentrate, relax, and the hair on my neck is always on ends.

She studies me for a second, then dismisses me.

I'm in no hurry since I have lunch, and I don't want to have people notice my darting eyes, and skittish movements.

My 'friends' know something's up, and Christina asked what happed the day I stormed out of the cafeteria, so I told her.

But I haven't told her directly about Peter, being the same one from the family that adopted me that one time.

No one's dared to ask me about it, since I bet it seems like a sensitive topic, and no one's really had a meaningful conversation since the last one was a total bust.

Maybe I wont even go to lunch today. I haven't been able to really eat, not that I really do anyways, and it seems to bother Chris. But maybe if I just don't show up, she wont notice that I didn't eat anything.

I decide that's a wise-ish decision, and lean against a wall that leads to the cafeteria, but so I wont be seen from the people inside.

I grab my headphones and beat up iPod from my bag, and put it on shuffle.

I close my eyes, and slowly sink to the floor, humming to the song.

A couple songs later, I feel a presence sit next to me, and abruptly tear my headphones out, and look to my left.

I expected to find something unpleasant, and I guess this is a little more than unpleasant; Four.

"Oh, hey. You trying to give me a heart attack or something?" Not quite joking since I'm still trying to even out my breathing, but not _entirely_ rude.

"Here," he ignores my question, handing me a ham and cheese sandwich.

I tell myself that I'm not hungry, but the smell of the melted cheese, and the sweet ham... Not to mention my recent lack of appetite.

I try my best not to snatch it from him, downing it in one bite.

So as slow as I can, I reach out and take it from him.

"Thanks," I mumble between mouthfuls.

He waits till I've completely finished when he says, "Okay. I want you to answer my question truthfully. Got it? No lies." He gives me a cold glare that sends shivers down my spine.

I sigh, "That's why you brought the sandwich. Wow.. I should've known you wanted something, Chris always tempts me with a ham and cheese sandwich when she wants something."

He just looks at my blankly.

"Okay, fine. I promise," I put my hand over my heart, "no lies _AboutThisOneQuestion."_

"Who's Peter to you?"

"The devil."

He sighs in frustration.

_Not a lie Number Boy._

Through clenched teeth he says, "I mean, why since he got here, you've been acting different?"

I have to be careful about answering this, I don't want to make him angry, but I don't want to give too much away.

"I knew him before."

"How?"

I give him a hard glare of my own.

"It was a long time ago," my tone hopefully hinting that this specific questioning is over.

And to drag my point across the finish line, I get up, and thank him again for the sandwich.

He doesn't try to stop me, and I don't stop till I'm in the science lab, alone while everyone is still eating.

* * *

><p>"<em>Prior."<em>

My head snaps up at the recognition and my eyes widen.

He stands there in the doorway to the lab, a few yards away.

My breath hitches in my throat.

"Peter."

"Long time no see, eh?" He slowly walks, hands in his pockets, to a seat across from me.

"Why are you here?" I ask, trying to sound nonchalant, but coming out in a cold whisper.

"Same as you," he gives me a sly grin, "to learn."

We sit in silence for a little while, staring at each other.

I sigh and look at my clasped hands in my lap. "What do you want, Peter?"

"To get to know you," he replies. His expression reminds me of a snake that's spotted a mouse.

Me.

I breath deeply, looking for my courage, and sit up straighter.

"What do you want to know?" Wow. It came out louder, and more confident than I thought it would.

His upper lip twitches, for a second his grin turns into a sneer, but then it's back.

Perhaps he expected me to cower, sink into my seat and beg him to leave me alone.

_HA! _Good luck with that.

I almost smirk at him when he says, "Where's Caleb."

It wasn't a question.

It's a reminder of how cruel he is.

He just wants a reaction from me.

_You promised you promised you promised..._

I close my eyes.

_You promised you promised you promised..._

I take a deep breath.

_You promised you promised you promised..._

When I came in I noticed a small lamp on the table, it seems heavy-

_YOU PROMISED._

I let my breath out and open my eyes.

And I surprise us both.

I smile.

"Where's your dignity?" I say with fake sweetness.

My heart pounds against my ribs.

I can't take it any more. I get up to leave, and am at the door when Peter calls after me, "What was your mom's name?"

_You promised you promised you promised..._

"And your dad, wasn't he the one who opened the door?" He starts raising his voice in amusement.

_You promised you promised you-_

"Let him and his wife get slaughtered?!"

Who ever keeps their promises?

"Shut up, Peter."

Swiftly, I grab a lamp off a nearby table, and use the momentum to let the butt of it crash against his face.

He wasn't expecting the blow, so he couldn't block it or move out of the way in time.

There was a dull cracking sound, loud cursing, and the sound of contact between body and floor.

"Argh!" He groans on the ground, holding his nose to stop the flow of blood coming from it.

I still have the lamp in hand, and it's covered with blood.

I toss it to the ground next to him, shattering the bulb.

I stroll over to my seat where I left my book bag, and pick it up. I think it would be a good idea to leave for the rest of the day.

I sling the strap on one shoulder, and let the other fall loose, and crouch next to his head so he can see me.

"The nurse is to the right of the main exit. You tripped, and banged your head on the table, or you let a girl beat you up, you choose."

Just then the warning for the end of lunch bell rings, and I take that as my que to get going.

He lets out a string of profanities directed at me while rocking on the ground.

I'll bet I broke his nose, but it's his fault for breaking my peeved off o-meter.

"Well.. See ya!" and I rush out of the room before anyone arrives, or sees me leave.

I'm out the door, and sneak a look around the corner, toward the lunch room, where I faintly see everyone stir, but it's clear.

I turn around quickly, before anyone catches me, but instead I come face to.. wall, with Four.

"GOLLY! Stop doing that!" I squeak at his sudden appearance.

"What are you doing?" His deep voice makes my chest rumble.

"Uh, leaving." I glance inside the room when Peter makes a loud noise.

"What's that?" He asks, suspicious.

"I don't know, but I'm late. _Bye!"_

I try to move around him, but he puts a hand on my shoulder, restraining me.

He looks at me expectantly.

"All I'll say is that you'll probably need to help him get to the nurse," I glance in there again, _"big baby."_

"What happened?"

I grin, "His face made contact with a lamp."

Four's eyebrows raise in sudden understanding, and he removes his hand.

"And if you'd be so kind as to tell Christina that I didn't feel well, so to just meet me at home?"

"Uh, sure." He still looks shocked.

_Yeah, this small package packs a punch, or in this case, a lamp._

* * *

><p>I get to my car, and suddenly feel like coffee, so I decide that's where I'll hang out till the end of the day. At a coffee shop not far from here.<p>

We only have a few blocks left, and I don't have any of them with Chris, so she shouldn't worry or get too mad, especially since I'll most likely tell her everything later.

From what I just witnessed back there, I didn't have any reason to be the way I was about Peter.

He's just a big baby that can't handle when other people push back.

I don't know what happens when I get back tomorrow, but I'll be satisfied with myself either way, even if it disappoints Chris.

Then it hits me like a freight train, and my mental smugness subsides.

I promised.

**A/N: Yeah, I know this was short, I just wanted to get one in, (And it's the middle of the week) and hopefully I'll get a longer one in this weekend.**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: I got ****1 review ****for my last chapter... I'm hoping for at least five for this one, and if you do review, at the end of it, give me a name for a new character, and I'll choose the best one(Or more) to feature in my story!**

_**On with the story we go!**_

No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get that look off my mind.

The look of betrayal.

From my sister.

My best friend.

When she got home from school the day Peter and I had our little 'dispute', Christina demanded an answer. I told her the truth, hoping that she'd be satisfied, but the look of hurt was evident on her face.

She wondered why I thought that I couldn't confide in her anymore, why I felt that it was best to keep this from her.

She waited, hopeful for an answer, but I was too overcome with mixed emotions to provide one.

This was _definitely_ not the reaction I was waiting for.

She wasn't mad, or if she was, she was good at masking it, but the hurt and confusion seeped through it to the surface. Usually, her negative emotions result in slammed doors, loud cursing and reckless behavior, so I was more frightened than all else when she just gave me a sad look, and briskly walked off. I waited for the sound of pounding steps up the stairs and her door slamming shut, threatening to forever stay that way, but instead I was greeted with horrid silence.

Shocked, I stood there in the kitchen a while after she had quietly gone with a glass of orange juice in one hand, contemplating on going after her, or leaving her be.

I chose the latter. I also need time to myself to think, mostly about mending things with Christina.

In some way, I feel that I've lost the right to call her 'Chris', that the betrayal she feels towards me has made us estranged. I know that when I say it out loud it sounds silly, but that is how it really feels. You don't call a stranger something other than their name because you don't know if it'll make them snap at you. With Christina, it's close to the same thing.

It's Saturday, and all this happened Wednesday. Christina and I don't talk, and she hardly looks at me, but when she does, it's not with distaste, but that sad look.

Our group at school have definitely noticed the last two days, but the harsh looks they receive from Christina shuts them up for a while.

But unlike them, Peter never stops complaining and whining, sending me evil glares. This would have fazed me in the past, but I know that he wont do anything, he didn't tell anyone that I broke his nose. He said that he tripped over a lamp wire and fell into a table.

Stupid.

But whatever, at least I don't have to deal with him bothering me anymore.

Christina's parents are finally home since they had a case a couple states over, so they wanted us all to have a nice dinner together.

They both are prosecuting attorneys, and when one of them has to go away on business, the other goes too to help and for moral support.

Christina and I sit across from each other, her parents sitting across from each other on the other two sides of the table.

Once in a while, I'll steal a glance at Christina, but she doesn't look at me... that I notice.

"Ahem," Mark clears his throat to break the obvious tension, "What have you girls been up to?"

I look up and across the table, and she does the same, our gazes meet.

"Um, well... I didn't hit someone in the head with a lamp," Christina fake smiles at her dad.

Mark raises his eyebrows, "Then who did?" He glances at me.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, Mark," Linda scolds.

Mark smiles at his wife, "You're right. Well then I'll tell you girls what we did."

And he just goes on, and I pretend to listen and give the appropriate expressions based on theirs. Christina mindlessly twirls her spaghetti, deep in thought.

That's how the rest of the night goes on.

* * *

><p>I'm brushing out the tangles in my hair in the bathroom when Christina walks in.<p>

She looks up, then lowers her gaze while walking to her side of the counter and turns the faucet on warm.

She gets a hair clasp to keep her hair out of her face, then a head band to keep any stray hair back, and lathers her face with her cleanser.

There are no words exchanged, and I can't stand it anymore.

"Can I talk to you?" I say softly, setting down my brush and turning to her.

She's just finishing drying her face when she looks at me.

When she _actually_ looks at me.

But instead of that sad look, it's one of irritation.

_"Now _you want to talk?" I flinch at the anger in her voice.

"You can't stay mad or indifferent forever. I mean, come on. Honestly tell me that you don't mind this," I say gesturing between us.

She sighs, "I can't. But I just don't understand how or why you didn't tell me anything."

I sigh, "I know, I just didn't want you to worry."

She scoffs and looks at me disbelievingly_._

"I_ did worry! _I worried that you ate less than normal, and you never told me why! I worried because it looked like you feared for your life at every moment! But did I ask about any of that? _No!_ I didn't ask, because I didn't think I needed to. We tell each other everything. I felt that you were just waiting to tell me, I felt that I didn't need to ask to get an explanation from you.  
>I worried that you never willingly told me anything, and then out of the blue, Four comes up to me and says you practically broke the new kid's face, then<em> left?!" <em>

_Wow. _I wonder what else I was oblivious about..

"Look, I'm really-"

"I don't want to hear it if you're not going to _really_ talk to me," her eyes plead more than her voice, but her facial expression reveals nothing.

I nod my head and walk to my room and plop down on my gray comforter, hoping that she'll follow.

She does, and I tell her everything.

She listens, and I go on, telling her how terrified I was on the inside, like I was in a pit, with no way out.

We talk it through, share some tears, and it's good.

I even tell her about the nickname theory, which makes her laugh.

"I was thinking the same thing! But saying 'Beatrice'..? I couldn't do it, so I just didn't say anything!" we burst out laughing.

"Okay, so I know I over reacted a little about you not telling me anything, but I was actually keeping something from you too.."

I give her a look.

"But this isn't as serious as your.. _thing!_ Will is really nice and sweet and smart and cute.." she trails off for a second in dream land, "and_ he kinda asked me out!"_

We both shriek.

"Oh my gosh, Chris! That's great!"

"Oh I know," she flips her hair. "And I heard that Al likes you," she wiggles her eyebrows at me.

I groan and lean back into the pillows of my bed.

"Yeah, I don't know what to do! I tried to get the point across that we're just friends, but... I don't know."

She gives me a devious look, and claps her hands together.

"You know what we gotta do then?"

"Well nothing like this has ever happened before, so no. What do we have to do?"

"Find you a man! _Duh_."

I look at her blankly.

"What?"

"Just one problamo, Chris."

"And what would that be?"

I give an _'are you serious right now' _look, "I just happen to not be attracted to any of the guys at our school."

"Hmm... _oh! _Then we just have to find you a best guy friend. You will hang out together, not want to date, and it'll look like a flirtationship."

"Do you actually know of a guy that will like to hang out with a girl, and not think she likes him?" I ask lamely.

"Actually, I do!"

I'm taken back for a second, "Seriously? How? _Who?"_

She gives me a devious smile, "Someone who is obvs head over heels for another girl; but wont admit it, but also too spunky and fun for his own good, that he wont think of hanging out with you leading to anything else."

"Okay... now for the 'who' portion of the question.." I prompt.

I don't know if this'll work.

What if I accidentally mislead him into thinking that I like him, and he wants me to stay away?

_What if the girl he likes, likes him, and me hanging around him makes her think I like him, and she stops trying because my trying to make Al think I like someone else has made others think we like each other, _I think frantically.

_Then people will call me names again, and then people wont like me because I crushed a girl's heart by making it seem like I'm trying to take away the guy she likes, and people start taunting me-_

"Don't overthink this, whatever bad thoughts you're thinking, _stop_. It's Uriah, who everyone knows, loves Marlene more than our cake."

_Haha! _It'll be awesome hanging out with him, especially since he made me laugh on the first impression.

"Satisfied with my genius decision? I was thinking about Zeke too, but he's like on the verge of asking out Shauna, and Uriah is too wimpy to ask out Mar. By the way, down the road, we'll need to help him with that."

I smirk. "Shouldn't we tell him about this? Our plan I mean? It _is_ Uriah."

She thinks for a moment, "Yeah, sure. I'll text him what's going on and everything, and Monday, you _have_ to act like you are the best of friends. It's easy for him, but we need to work on your people skills," she glowers at me. "Maybe his outgoingness will rub off on you!"

I laugh and shake my head at her.

"I'm really glad we're okay again."

She smiles, "Me too."

I feel tears stinging my eyes and my throat throb, so I lean in for a long hug. When we pull away I see that she is also having difficulty keeping her emotions in check.

We lightly laugh at each other, and have to blink several times to keep the tears from spilling over.

"Okay, I'm gonna go text Uriah if he's still wake, or Zeke to wake him up. So, goodnight Sleeping Ugly," she smiles slyly at me while walking through the bathroom.

"Nighty night Beasterella," I retort.

This is one of the many reasons we get along so well... I don't even know what to call the love hate relationship we have.

I lie down with my conscience clear, and finally am able to drift peacefully into a dreamless slumber.


End file.
